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Vlad


I knew the house was empty the moment I woke. Twilight's glow still shown in the west. I told Carmen I was going to take a shower and must have passed out again.

Where was she?

There was no movement except for the normal house sounds. Nothing living. No scent, no sound no vibration. No alarm either.

Getting up, I took a quick shower. Afterward I stepped out into the backyard feeling much better than I did before. Except for some aches in the muscles of my body – all of them – I felt energized and ready. Not sure what she did to me before I slept again, but it worked and I didn't have to believe anything for it to work.

When I was finally dressed and went out to go down to the street, it took only a couple of steps for me to sense her fear. I discovered it as I stepped out the front door, maybe three hours old. The scent came sharp and bright. Yet it had faded a great deal.

As I went down the steps her fear faded even further and I began to believe they took her around the side of the house, but then I caught the scent of her anger.

I smiled.

The way it played out in my head – a team of six people came here. Four came up to the door. Two hid out of sight to either side of the front door. A third man, the front man, knocked on the door, the last stood two steps back and to the front-man's right. He could see past the person who answered the door, into the house, giving them an advantage if someone else were there.

They grabbed her and frightened her, but that didn't last. Her fear fueled a gut level wrath which added to her scent a burnished sandalwood and sheepskin leather.

Why isn't she fighting?

She's strong. Bright thunder, she has a goddess within her.

After several minutes of debate I made a conclusion. She didn't fight because she didn't want to, I decided. She probably recognized one or two of the men. Besides, who else could it be? Had to be her grandfather. Him or his men. Unless this was the Sidhe?

No, I decided. The razor sliced clean for the simple, more obvious solution. This was her grandfather. If not himself, then his men on his business. They would take her home. That's easy to find.

Lacing my fingers behind my head I looked to the moon. It was already high, but in the opposite direction of Carmen. I whistled a phrase of a song. My mind drifted without conscious thought for some time. I didn't bother it with trifles. Like, how did they locate this new house. They did. That was the only relevant point; they did. We were well past all the rest.

"What? Not going to run off and save her?" Ocean asked, as he came up beside me.

He didn't make much noise. It felt a bit freaky to know he could do that. "Save her from what?" I said, carefully.

"Her grandfather of course. Are you nose blind?" he asked.

"No. I unraveled the story." I stretched my arms, and then rubbed my bond-mark with my thumb. "First off, I'm three hours late. She's still alive, and not injured. So I can only surmise she's not being threatened by more than she can deal with."

"She doesn't need to be rescued," I told him. "This grandfather business is her own affair. I don't think she'd thank me for rushing in there and blasting out with her over my shoulder."

"Many have thanked their rescuing prince's," Ocean offered.

I yawned. "I wonder how many were asked before being gilded? However, it doesn't mater. She could have woken me if she was in trouble. She could have screamed here. That would have been enough. She didn't."

Ocean studied me for a long moment, but said nothing.

"What?" I asked.

"It could be," he ventured, "that 'need' may have little to do with it, but I choose not to meddle further."

Something occurred to him, and he pulled out his phone. Then, after fiddling with it for a moment, a news broadcast began playing.

The report was of an arrest made earlier of Frank Murphy, for kidnapping his granddaughter. Frank along with several of his men were arrested and charged with unlawful kidnapping and illegal imprisonment.

"Guess she didn't need you after all," Ocean said, but doubt still colored the tone of his voice.

I heard the squeaking-whine of van breaks out front, and met Carmen on the porch where she plowed into me for a hug. "I'm so happy to see you."

"I heard the news about your grandfather," I said. Her color was high and pink. Her smile wide and careless. She smelled of clover, vanilla, and soft leather. "How did you manage that? I counted six taking you. Ocean?"

"Six," he agreed.

Carmen laughed, "Well, we got to the house and everyone bailed out of the truck they had me in and started for door." She looked around, "And I pulled out my phone from my back pocket and said I was going to make a quick call and I would be right in. And they just kept on going inside. So, I called the police and told them what was going on and where I was. Then I went inside and confronted Frank about taking me from my family."

"He did?" I asked. "Is that what Oma had to talk with you about?"

"Yeah. That was rough," she admitted. Then she leaned into me.

Putting my hand on her shoulder, "Not meaning to rush you, but what is going on with you now? Do you need to stay here?"

"I have to go back. I need to look after Alexis. And yes, they told me about the coming attack..." Carmen said. "But what I found with Alexis may be far more important far sooner."

"I assume you are informed as well, Ocean?" I said.

"Yes, I'm up on current events, maybe a bit ahead. But if it comes up, and you feel it useful, you can let it be known that the ten thousand don't feel like the true threat to me. Something else is at the table snuffling for scraps."

"That's quite a large distraction, don't you think?" I said. "It might not be enough to win the city, but it is enough that we could use it to take a sizable chunk out of them in retribution. None of the realms is going to bat an eye if we retaliate."

"And you think the king's mind is toward retaliation?" he asked.

"I couldn't say," I told him.

He studied me for a moment, then sighed, "Of course you can't. You're not the king. Apologies."

"None required," I demurred.

"But I get your meaning," he continued, "in that it is a risky distraction – if it is one – when other distractions might have been just as effective and less risky."

"Distract us from what? That's still a worthy question," I suggested.

"At this point, yes," Ocean agreed. 

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